


Crime and Punishment

by Smutty_McSmuttson



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Domestic Violence, F/M, Genital Mutilation, Graphic Rape, Graphic Torture, RW/HG, past HP/HG
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-10
Updated: 2014-06-10
Packaged: 2018-02-04 02:51:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1763401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Smutty_McSmuttson/pseuds/Smutty_McSmuttson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When her abusive husband finds a letter from an ex lover, Hermione is in a whole world of trouble.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Crime and Punishment

**Author's Note:**

> Warning! This fic is extremely R rated and surely contains all kinds of triggers. Read at your own risk!  
> And of course, I in no way own Harry Potter.

#  Part 1—Crime

“Honey, I’m home!” The voice held a hint of malice as it poured from the hallway.

Hermione quickly slid the letter under the tablecloth, glancing to ensure the food was set out perfectly before rushing to take her husband’s bags and coat.

“How was your day, My Lord?” she asked dutifully, keeping her head lowered.

He ignored her, as always, before sitting at the head of the table in the only seat available. Hermione hurried to his side to slice the steaming leg of roast beef, laying several thick, juicy pieces on his plate before moving on to the vegetables. Potato and carrots only—he didn’t eat any others— with rosemary gravy to complete. She set a bottle of butterbeer in front of him and went to her place halfway along the table where she stood obediently, until he snapped his fingers, signally a refill. As she moved to pour the gravy, her husband reached for his butterbeer, causing their arms to bump in mid-air and a drop of brown gravy to land on the white tablecloth.

Silence reigned, for a moment. Hermione quickly set down the gravy boat and sunk to her knees, hoping beyond hope that her husband was feeling merciful today. This proved not to be the case, as he spoke suddenly, his voice soft and dangerous.

“What have I done to deserve such an incompetent wife? Do I ask too much of you?” As her silence continued, he screamed—

“ANSWER ME!”

“N-n-n-no My Lord.”

“N-n-n-no?” he mimicked “Are you stupid as well as incompetent? Or maybe you just like being punished.” He stood up and unbuckled his belt causing her to whimper in fear. “Oh yes, you like that don’t you? Let it never be said that I am not a good husband, who tends to his wife’s desires.”

He pulled the entire tablecloth off—dislodging the meal to the floor—and kicked the chair away. Then he bent and lifted Hermione by the hair, revelling in her gasp of pain as several strands parted from the scalp, and shoving her onto the wooden tabletop. Pulling out his wand, he vanished her clothes and bound each wrist and ankle to the closest table leg so that she was spreadeagle on her stomach, before dropping the wand onto the displaced fabric.

Sliding his belt free of its loops, he grasped the buckle in his right hand and swung the strap sharply across her backside. Again and again he thrashed her, watching as the red wheals blossomed across her back, shoulders and bottom while avoiding her face, arms and legs to prevent obvious marks. The snap of the leather was music to his ears, even as his stubborn witch refused to scream.

Satisfied that she had been properly punished, he reached for his wand to untie the straps. Instead of smooth wood however, his hand brushed parchment and he pulled the letter out curiously.

_Dear Hermione,_

_Ron says that you still don’t want to see me, that you hate me, but I had to try one last time to reconcile with you. I apologise once again for what happened between us on the horcrux hunt. I honestly believed that you were more than willing._

_I know that you are happily married now, but I wish we were still friends. I miss you Hermione. I miss the way the three of us used to be._

_I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me._

_Love always,_

_Harry_

Ron’s face grew apoplectic with rage as he read. Throwing the letter across the room in disgust, he turned on his quaking wife.

“I gave you everything yet you go running back to him? How could you? After everything I’ve done for you! I GAVE YOU EVERYTHING! You filthy slut. Does it make you wet, imagining his dick inside you? Picturing him ramming into you, like his own personal whore? Well I won’t have it! You are MY wife. MINE.”

He tore off his clothing and bent to retrieve his wand, vanishing the ropes and casting a lubrication charm on himself.

In the moment of quiet, she begged—

“Please My Lord, he just sent me the letter. I wasn’t going to reply.”

He paid no heed to her words, pulled her roughly off the table, bent her forward, spread her legs with his knee and slammed into her.

This time she did scream. He laughed at the sound, pummelling into her with abandon.

“Is this how you want him to fuck you? You filthy whore.”

He leaned forward and grabbed her hair again, using it as leverage to deepen his thrusts, even as the wooden edge bit into her hips.

“I miss you Hermione! Please forgive me Hermione!” he sneered. “You think the boy-who-conquered would touch you? A filthy. Little. Whore?” He punctuated his words with thrusts so hard her skin split against the edge of the table. The sight of the blood tipped him over the edge, and he spurted his seed into her before stepping back.

She went to sink to the floor, but her husband had other ideas.

“Nuh uh uh. Not this time. I’ve been lenient on you before, and this is how you repay me? No more lenience. It’s past time I fulfilled my duty as your husband. I’ve let you go without punishment for far too long.”

Still grasping her bushy mane, he snatched up his wand and dragged Hermione to their bedroom. Pausing for a moment he looked down at her and said “Can’t have you trying to escape now can I?” and fired off a stunner.

 

#  Part 2—Punishment

When she came to, Ron was slapping her cheeks. He seemed to have forgotten his usual aim of keeping his punishments invisible to anyone who might happen to see her. She quickly assessed her situation as well as she could without opening her eyes. She was still naked. Her wrists were cuffed to a bar that ran from above her head down the length of her body. Her ankles were cuffed separately so that her legs fell in a wide V, presumably on attached to a second bar. Around her body and legs were a set of straps. These were firm around her torso and stomach, but loose around her thighs. Between the straps, she could feel nothing but air beneath her back.

“Wakey wakey” Ron said menacingly. Fearing worse repercussions should she continue to ignore him, she opened her eyes. The rage had gone, replaced by a calculating cold that terrified Hermione even further. She was indeed suspended, laying level with Ron’s chest. He had reclothed himself while she was unconscious, not in his Auror uniform, but a simple shirt and trousers.

“Now my dear,” he said “I do apologise for neglecting my duties as your husband. I should have steered you away from temptation as soon as I realised it was there. It’s too late for that now though.” He sighed, as if in regret “Now I will need to resort to more drastic measures. I need to take away the temptation. I can’t kill every other man in the world, so it will have to be you I change. I’m not sure yet where the temptation stems from, but I’ve a few ideas to start with. Maybe if your cunt is as ugly as the rest of you, you’ll realise no one wants you. And if you can’t feel any pleasure, maybe you won’t try to get any?” He spun her so that he was situated between her open legs.

“First of all, to prepare the workspace.” He tapped each of the thigh straps with his wand and they slowly tightened. Hermione grimaced in pain and they stopped.

“Now now, we can’t have that. We don’t want you wiggling around. And really, we don’t need any of the safety and comfort charms do we love?” He said, and set to cancelling them with his wand before tapping the straps again. This time they did not stop until her legs had been stretched into the splits—a manoeuvre the now whimpering Hermione had never been able to achieve— and the straps were digging deeply into her legs.

“Now love, I think I’ll do this the muggle way. A good husband respects his wife’s heritage after all.” At that he conjured a table. On it was a small knife, a needle and some thread. He picked up the knife. Making a show of peering at her vagina he began speaking again, apparently to himself this time.

“Yes, very pretty. No children have ruined this tight little cunt. I wonder why that is. Ten years of marriage and not a baby in sight. Probably why the little whore thinks someone else someone else might lower himself to fuck her. No matter, I’ll soon fix that. Where should I start I wonder…” He traced her labia with the knife as she whimpered in fear. “Here first I think, then this cute little button.” He pinched her clit until she cried out.

“Oh but it’s so pretty, can’t hurt to give it one last pounding… No, plenty of time for that later.” He looked up at Hermione and smiled. “This will hurt darling, but it’s for your own good. Before I start I should sterilise the area. Wouldn’t want you to get an infection!”

With a flick of his wand and a muttered word, boiling water poured over Hermione’s vagina. She screamed in shock and pain but Ron just shook his head and smiled.

“Now, which side first?” he tapped each labia, singing eenie meenie miney mo, until he settled on the left side. Grinning, he used his forefinger and thumb to pull the skin away from her vagina as far as it would go before setting the tip of the knife to the sensitive inner flesh. Hermione screamed as the knife parted her skin. Ron drew the process out, cutting over and over, a little deeper each time. Blood gushed out and covered his hands, but he seemed not to notice, intent as he was on his task. Hermione continued to scream until finally the full width was sliced through and he severed the portion of flesh entirely, placing the bloody mass on the table. As the pain threatened to overcome her, Ron tutted.

“You won’t learn your lesson if you fall asleep!” He said cheerfully, casting a charm on her that caused the blissful darkness to recede. “Besides, I’ve barely started.” With that he turned the knife to the other side and Hermione screamed again.

“Okay. That’s those bits out of the way. Now for that cute little button of yours. Just wash all the blood away…” Hermione cried out yet again as more boiling water hit her. “There, all clean. Actually, I think I’ll leave this bit till the very end.” Ron placed the bloody knife back on the table and picked up the needle and thread. He used this to make crude stitches across the ruins of her labia, securing the edges of skin tightly across the bleeding mess. Once both sides were sewn, he picked up the knife again, adding another douse of boiling water.

“Now my love. Time for your special little button. Better enjoy it while it’s still here.” He leaned down and sucked her clit into his mouth, tonguing it for a little before biting down hard. He pulled back, clit still clamped between his teeth, and stood drinking in the delicious screams his wife was making. Grinding his teeth harder, he tasted blood, and a piece of skin came away in his mouth. Grinning, he tore again and again with his teeth until there was nothing left to tear. By this point the pain had overridden the charms and Hermione had passed out, but Ron didn’t notice. He sewed up the mutilated hole as best he could, doused her in hot water and dropped the implements back on the table. He flicked his wand and the ropes tying Hermione to the ceiling lengthened until she was level with Ron’s crotch. Glancing at his wife’s face, Ron noticed her lack of consciousness and frowned, casting another spell at her.

When she was awake once more, he undid his fly, he positioned his erect cock at her entrance and he plunged inside, using his own semen as lubricant. Using the device, he bounced her on his cock as hard as he could. He switched between her holes for several minutes, enjoying her cries of pain before cumming again, this time in her rear passage. Not yet satisfied, he spelled himself hard again and repeated the process, shooting bloody cum all over her face and body. Hermione was one again losing consciousness, and Ron cast the strongest sleep stopping spell he knew before walking around to her face.

“Now now darling, I told you to stay awake. Am I so boring that you can’t stop falling asleep on me? Well I guess I’ll have to ramp it up a notch then.” He grinned as his wife pleaded hoarsely. Shaking his head indulgently, he conjured a bottle of chilli oil and raised Hermione so he could massage it into the wheals on her back, enjoying her cries immensely. Then he returned to his position between her legs, rubbing a generous amount of the oil into the wounds he had created. Satisfied, he conjured the largest metal dildo he could, coated it in more of the oil and made the tip red hot with a charm. Hermione could only scream, again and again, as he slammed the twenty by five inch piece of burning steel all the way into her abused holes.

Split to bleeding by the width of the device, her womb and bowel punctured by the tapered head, the heat blistering her insides on contact, and the frenzied movement working the oil deeper, she finally succumbed to an unconsciousness so deep that Ron’s spells could not wake her.


End file.
